


All My Life

by mukuros



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Cute lesbians, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Underage Drinking, Ymir is a huge dork
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-19
Updated: 2015-04-07
Packaged: 2018-01-13 00:40:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1206445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mukuros/pseuds/mukuros
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ymir is gay and Christa doesn't suspect a thing<br/>Yet.<br/>fluffy Yumikuri maybe smut later on</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In Which Ymir is Gay

**Author's Note:**

> ok so this is my first fanfiction I've ever written and I'm not really confident about it maybe I'll write smut in later chapters idk but I'd love feedback on this

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ymir and Christa have been best friends since preschool. Now Ymir's super gay for Christa and stuff happens. Modern High School AU (they're both juniors)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is my first fanfic so I'm not really sure what to think of it. some feedback would be appreciated, and my tumblr is bisexualasshole if you feel the need to contact me! This is the first finished chapter of the rewrite so please be patient until I update the rest of the chapters, if you read on now there will be a lot of nonsensical parts to it.

"Hi, I'm Christa, what's your name?"

"Ymir"

"Great! We're best friends now."

"Okay!"

* * *

Thirteen years later, I groggily lifted my head from the solid desk as my vision refocused itself. What class was I even in?  

I looked over at the multiple flags sitting beside me.

French class.

shit.

Our original teacher, Madame Ral, had taken a maternity leave, so we were stuck with this new foreign guy, Mr. Zacharias. Let me tell you, this guy is fucking weird.

First of all, he makes us wear nametags. We're in tenth grade, do you really think nametags are going to go over well with a bunch of teenagers? (Pro tip: they don’t)

Even with the nametag, he still calls me Mira, which is a mix between my name and Mina's name (and he calls her Mina!!!!! Only I’m Mira??? What the fuck man.) And he thinks Tomas's name is Ray, for some unfathomable reason that no one can even begin to explain.

Second of all, no one can understand him through his dumbass french accent. (I know he’s “smart” for learning more than one language, but seriously? Learn to dictate your words better, man.

Third, We get like nine pages of homework a night.

Lastly and probably the worst one, when he wants to talk to us one-on-one, he goes over to the person in question's desk, and leans in close and just whispers. It’s just creepy as fuck.

It was another dull and dreary lesson where the teacher droned on about verb conjugation or some shit. I shot a look at Christa, who was sitting across the room, and rolled my eyes dramatically multiple times in a valiant effort to catch her attention. Alas, my efforts were in vain, as she actually cares about this class.

Still feeling the extreme urge to talk to someone, (hopefully Christa. actually no, not hopefully, I was feeling the need to talk to Christa) a completely and utterly brilliant plan began to form in my mind. I picked up my stuff, and then just walked across the room and plopped down right into the seat next to her. Mr. Zacharias was too caught up in doing this odd thing explaining the directions on accents of the letters and doing something I think was supposed to be a dance to notice something as miniscule as his students completely not paying attention to him whatsoever.

"Ymir, go back to your seat, you're going to get in trouble!" Christa frantically whispers as her eyes widened.

I really didn't care all that much about how much trouble I would get in, because I was failing French, due to the fact I ditched a good amount of french classes along with a mousy-haired sophomore named Hitch, who always hooked me up with cheap booze whenever I needed it, so I tolerated her and forged nurse’s passes for her so her dad won’t get a call from the school about his daughter’s absences, and in turn realize the slowly disappearing stash in his liquor cabinet and blame it on her.

Hitch was at drum lessons during fifth today, so I came to class and tried not to fall asleep for that much of the class period. Looking at the clock, I noticed that I did not even come close to accomplishing that task. I’m dropping the course next semester, so it doesn’t make much of a difference anyways.

The bell rang, so I put all my books into my bag and ran to catch up to Christa. She was talking to our friend Bertholdt, and the stark height difference between them was actually quite amusing. I was about to point this out, until I just had to notice that Christa did a sort of a skip as she walked, causing her lush, sandy hair to flounce behind her and—

I crashed into a wall.

Way to go Ymir. Nice job of letting your mind numbingly painful crush on your best friend to lead you to complete and utter embarrassment. Hoping not many people noticed, I stood up and began to run away as fast as I could until the exit is suddenly blocked by a tall, lean figure.

“Who you do you have the lady boner for?” Bertholdt questions, with an all-too-knowing grin upon his face, that smug little fucker.

“W-what are you talking about, asshole?” shit. I stuttered. he knows. I felt a blush creeping up my cheeks, so, to avoid further interrogation, I delivered a swift kick to his shin and slipped out of the door behind him as quickly as possible.

* * *

The rest of the day was a blur, and not just because I don’t give a shit about my grades or people or basically anything but myself, and not because I let my gay thoughts get the best of me again, but because if I’m outed, I have no clue what may possibly happen. People absolutely cannot realize how much of a huge fucking lesbian I am. I maybe will fine with it someday in the distant future, but I’m sure as hell not putting up with all these homophobic dickheads right now. I have too much going on to be a victim of hate crimes. I run until I catch up with Christa on the way to our bus.

“How was your day?” I ask her, and her face lights up, and she begins talking about this complex equation for her AP Physics class, and I kinda tune out what she’s saying to just stare at the wonderful human being that is Christa Lenz.

I personally have a strong opinion in favor of the idea that she is literally the cutest person on this known earth.  With soft, blonde, wispy hair, a light layer of freckles that are dusted across her cheeks and her nose, and her tiny, delicate hands, it’s no doubt that she was gorgeous.

“So then Hanji goes outside, the fire still raging on in the chem lab, and starts laughing!” Christa finishes her story. From the sound of it, it apparently seems like it was more interesting than I made it out to be. Fuck.

“So, are we still on for tonight?” asks Christa, as she steps onto the bus. We usually marathon a different genre of movie every Wednesday, because neither of us has practice that day and my parents think we’re doing homework while they’re out on their “weekly date night,” aka “probably having gross sex whenever they can get away from me and my brother.”

“Of course. How could I ever live without Sea Life Sport movies?” I retaliated, making sure the sarcasm was evident. Tonight’s going to be fucking insane, seeing how there’s a whole group of foreign movies dedicated to different sea creatures playing various sports, and I am going to watch the shit out of these things.

I plop my stuff down on the bus seat that has the heater below it, because that shit is awesome, and it’s like negative seven billion degrees outside. Christa gets onto the adjacent seat, and we nod at each other, signifying the end of the conversation, and put our headphones in. I decided to put on shuffle and make a playlist of the first songs that come up, dubbing it my “Shit-list,” because I mainly have trash music taste.

Ymir’s Shit-List 2k15:

  1. I’m Too Sexy by Right Said Fred

  2. I’ll Make a Man Out of You by Donny Osmond (aka Li Shang from Mulan)

  3. Mr. Brightside by the Killers

  4. It Takes Two by the original broadway cast of Into the Woods

  5. Fight for Me by the original off-broadway cast of Heathers: The Musical

  6. You Can’t Stop the Beat by the movie cast of Hairspray

  7. Never Gonna Give You Up by Rick Astley (It’s on there for ironic reasons, I swear)

  8. the motherfucking Cotton Eye Joe

  9. I’ll Be There For You (aka the F.R.I.E.N.D.S. theme)

  10. Home by Edward Sharpe




As the bus pulled up at my stop, I couldn't help but look at a certain small sandy-haired girl when the last lyrics of the song played.

_“Home is wherever I’m with you._ ”

Wow Ymir, you are such a fucking loser.

 


	2. Ymir is really gay oh god

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little bit deeper into the wrestling team. More Christa in the next chapter I promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and this is what I do while waiting for Like A Drum to update

The bus screeches to a halt and opens the door for Christa's stop right as the final "Daddy Please Don't, we're gonna get married" was sung. Christa, with her blonde hair tied into two separate little braids today, and her winter jacket that was way too big on her so it fell down to about just past her thighs, and her tiny features reddened with cold, steps on the bus, and I pause my shitty music and take my headphones out. Christa sits down right next to me, because the heater seat is undeniably the warmest. Even though, to tell the truth it isn't very warm at all.  
"It's so chilly outside" she remarked.  
C'mon Ymir, this is your chance. Make some smooth move about sharing heat and hugging or having her sit on your lap or something to engage physical contact. You have got this.  
"Well I don't really feel cold right now, so you could wear my hat and gloves" I blurted out.  
Well god fucking damn. Now I didn't have a chance to hug the girl and I'm fucking freezing to death. Score one for Ymir. After being suave as fuck and nearly contracting pneumonia, we finally pulled into the school parking lot. Christa politely gave back the hat and gloves, and I sprinted at top speed to get inside the school. I looked around in the hellhole to find Reiner, which wasn't hard, considering that a 6'2 gay sophomore with a varsity jacket and built like a bulldozer wasn't very common. (Well at least not in our school) The kids who had once called him a faggot in the hallways of middle school when he had come out had regretted it as soon as the then-scrawny Reiner Braun had hit puberty and joined a gym. They transferred in eighth grade out of sheer terror. I slammed into him (Friendly of course) and greeted my friend, and we began to walk down the hallway to first period together. Christa passed by, wiggling her eyebrows at us suggestively as we passed. Shit.  
Awkwardly, I flushed scarlet the second I was out of her glance and Reiner looked surprised. He seemed speechless until he just kind of smirked. And then it happened.  
"You have a crush on her don't you?" He asked suddenly. "On who?" I replied, hoping by sheer dumb luck I'd be saved by another girl's name. "Christa" he replies, much to my despair as I retaliated with a "Hell no. She's my friend."  
The fact that my face was getting hotter and I probably looked like a fucking tomato proved the fact that I was clearly a liar. He looked a bit taken aback by his sudden revelation, so I snapped at him.  
"I swear to fucking god you better not tell anyone about this. Not even Bertl. No one. Do you understand that?"  
He nodded hastily, as my fists clenched at my sides. Reiner was silent for the rest of the walk, probably because he knows my pain of liking a straight girl. Or shock. I never really came out, but I assumed that my friends just knew about me. Being gay sucks, being in the minority, and you can't get laid unless you find another queer, which again, is in the minority. Hey, at least if I'm sent to hell like the Christians say I'm going to be I'm sure as fuck not going down there a virgin. Satan would laugh at my purity.  
Another boring school day passed, and another French class of staring at Christa's pretty eyes and not listening to the teacher at all, as usual. When the final bell rang I got pumped as fuck, seeing as our wrestling meet was the state semifinal and I was bursting with anticipation to find out who the sorry fucker I was gonna annihilate was. The team facing us was from the private school that's in upper Trost District, Sina High. We had played them before, and like all our competition, they really weren't hard to pin to the ground. Looking at the schedule/match-up arrangement, I was set to wrestle some kid named Shinji. What the fuck. Who even name their child Shinji. His parents must have been hardcore nge fans, that's for sure, because that was the only fathomable reason I could think of for someone naming their son Shinji. Opening my locker, I grabbed my gym bag with my singlet and gatorades in it and began to walk over to the wrestling bus that was parked near the back exit of the school.  
I hustled up the stairs and claimed my seat in the very back of the bus, along with the rest of the select team, which was comprised of me, Reiner, Bertholdt, and Annie. Now it may seem a bit strange that all of us except Reiner weren't bulky at all, but Annie has a ton of muscle, Bertl uses his unnatural height to intimidate opponents before the match, and I know exactly where a person's weak spots are by watching them walk and react to stimuli beforehand, allowing me to hit them where it hurts— literally, where it hurts them the most. We also are the literal shit at trash talking. I enjoy being feared.  
I hear a "Yo, bitch, scoot over" from next to me and immediately know it's Annie. I move closer to the window as Annie sets her stuff down and sits next to me. We just sorta look at each other and sit in silence until Annie plugs in her headphones into her iPod, and I follow, doing the same thing. Sitting with my phone set on shuffle, I keep shuffling until I get to a Marina and The Diamonds song, in this case Obsessions. We continue this until the bus reaches the school.  
After the Marina-filled bus ride, I walked down the steps and went straight to find the changing rooms. Promptly upon arriving to the locker rooms, I threw down my duffel bag and stripped down to my underwear and bra. Ruffling through my bag, I found my singlet. As I slipped it on, the other school's teams began to file in to the lockers. [Pro tip about joining wrestling as a girl: not many schools allow girls to join their teams so the locker rooms are pretty spaced out and unless you're at a meet in a crime district your stuff is less likely to be stolen. Fuck yeah.]  
I met up with the rest of the select team, and we began to walk into the gym. We're kinda a big deal in Trost. Just imagine a fucking great looking clique of super ripped teenagers. Also add explosions. And rock music. Yeah, we're /that/ team. Heads turn to watch us enter, and I'm not really sure what their reaction was, because I wasn't paying attention, so let's go with awe and amazement. Five minutes after I consumed about ten pounds of snack bad food, the announcement buzzer rang and a voice rang out asking if the wrestlers who were set to participate in Match-up Four could take their places. I bought another hot dog and shoved it in my mouth, chewing while I hustled to the ring. I looked across at the scrawny freshman (at least he looked like a freshman) mess that was my opponent. Laughing to myself when I was reminded that the fucking poor kid's name was Shinji, the bell sounded and the match began. Seeing how he wasn't very strong, I moved accordingly and lunged to grab his ankles. Shinji was a smart little bastard and dodged it. Feeling risky, I stood there as I let him pick me up, showing signs of beginning to attempt to throw me over his shoulder. Bad idea. I quickly landed as soon as he threw me, and got him in a headlock in a near-instant. Being the hilarious person I am, I whispered "get in the fucking robot" as he was promptly thrown to the ground— and then the match was basically over. Pinning him to the ground, I knew I had won. A simple and easy victory.  
Eyeing the brackets, I see my friends had won their matches as well. It wasn't really anything new. We strode to the bus in all our arrogant glory and signaled to the driver to take us back to the school so we could walk home. Not missing a beat, the driver (who in retrospect I think was afraid of us) jetted us off towards the school. Headphones go in— and no one else says a word. Today's ride-home playlist was Grease, and I maybe have thought of a certain small blonde girl during Hopelessly Devoted to You.  
Just maybe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading! sorry it took so long for the second chapter to be posted, I really was stressed out and I think it's decent enough.


	3. How did Ymir get gayer apparently it's possible

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ymir forgot about Daylight Savings again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks to everyone for reading!  
> I'd like to thank my moirail Bryauna for supporting this fic and woah next week we've been moirails for a year how trippy is that

     I woke up to my annoyingly loud alarm, which was, in fact, **not** High School Musical, no matter how much it may sound like _Getcha Head In The Game_. My school is the absolute worst with making us get up in the morning, seeing as they need to share the buses with the elementary/middle schoolers, so the younger kids' buses come at like, 7:30 or something while the /fortunate/ high schoolers get to take the bus at 6:40 in the fucking morning. What a great idea, school board! Good for you!

        Groggily raising my head, I rolled out of bed and onto the floor with a loud thud. Using all the strength I had, I walked to my dresser and opened the drawers to pick out an outfit. Ruffling through the many t-shirts I had, most in varying shades of black and gray, I found my _Panic! At the Disco_  hoodie and put that on over a black tank top. I trudged down the stairs, poured myself a bowl of Cheerios, and began the coffee machine. Filing through the cabinet, and figuring I haven't felt this tired in a while, I snagged a Five Hour Energy and ripped the plastic, opened the bottle, and gulped the whole thing in one swallow. Suddenly, a thought occurred. Why was it so light out? Wait, shit. Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit. Glancing at the clock, my suspicions were proved to be correct. It was 6:35, not 5:35, and my bus came in about two minutes. Fuck. Quickly I grabbed a coat and scribbled my last answer to the math homework and fled to the bus stop, which was a block down the street. I reached the stop in record time, only to see the yellow outline disappear down the end of the road. Five years of track better not fail me now. I sprinted with all my might across the neighborhood, taking shortcuts and jumping on children's skateboards and getting to the bus by whatever means possible. After flying down the last street on a kid's scooter that I found in his/her driveway, I skidded to a halt and ran to the end of the Jaeger driveway and then explained my tragic-yet-badass story to Mikasa and Eren, They stared at me blankly before Eren began rambling on about 'annihilating the white titans' in our school's intermural lacrosse league. I get it Eren, you didn't make the varsity team. You don't fucking have to be so perpetually angry. So, being the amazing conversation-starter and socialite I was, I stood there in utter and complete silence until the bus rounded the corner. After Miss Muscles and PMS Boy got on, I stomped up the stairs and dropped my stuff down right next to Christa.

   "Ymir! Guess what?" she whispered excitedly, although since we were both terrible at whispering, it wasn't technically whispering.

   "What?" I replied to her. With a humongous smile on her face, she announced "They want me to sing at the Soph Hop! want, because the student council voted on me because of my singing from last year's play!" Thinking back to the freshman play, all in all if was pretty fun, except for the casting. During _Les Miserables,_  Christa had landed the role of Cosette, the sweet blonde girl who is the daughter of a prostitute. I had auditioned for Marius, thinking Christa was a shoo-in for Cosette (I was right) and I would get to kiss her on stage for 'acting' purposes. Instead, I was cast as Eponine, the other female lead, who fawns over Marius who is a jackass and doesn't see her feelings for him until she DIES. I didnn't give a damn about mooning over a skinny-ass white boy who stole my part of kissing the cutest girl in the entire world multiple times. They didn't even put me as Grantaire or Enjolras, who are the actual gays in the play. I had written an anonymous letter to the director in an attempt to switch it so Marius dies and Eponine and Cosette become the hot-as-fuck lesbian couple that everyone loves, but the director shot it down stating during notes that "There will be no edits to the script that will drastically change the outcome of the play." Fuck Ms. Ral. She let Enjolras and Grantaire hold hands, that play could have been gayer, and gayer is always better.

        "Ymir"

        "Ymir"

        "YMIR!" I snapped back to reality as Christa shook me out of flashback mode.

        "What is it?" I snarled at Christa, then immediately apologized for coming off as too harsh.

        "Well- you- err.... You stared off into space for three whole minutes" Christa replied awkwardly. God she was cute. I wanted to braid her hair and kiss her and fuck her senseless—

        "YMIR! You're doing it again!" Christa looked pissed this time. Shiiiiit, I forgot to congratulate her on her song at the soph hop. I maybe went a bit overboard on the apologizing/congratulating afterwards because she stared at me like I was stupid. Like _Connie Springer_   level stupid. (Connie's this dumbass in our grade who is somehow my friend & achieved a 0.02 GPA last year and acted like it was Ivy League worthy) shit shit shit shit shit I fucked up. Using a mature and calm method to hide the wicked blush that was creeping across my face, I put the hood of my jacket over my head and pulled the drawstrings so only a small hole peeked out for my nose and mouth to breathe. Christa became silent for less than a minute before turning around and talking to Annie in the seat behind her about who knows what that doesn't concern me probably dialogue somewhat along the lines of:

 **Christa:**  Wow Annie, you're so cool! Much better than that dumbass Ymir. Even though I'm a heterosexual let's get married and honeymoon on Ymir's grave when she dies from being too much of a dumbass!

 **Annie:**  Yes, my wife! Let's talk all about how much we hate Ymir!

 **Christa:**  Let's have sex, Annie! Which btw isn't lesbian because I like boys and lesbians are gross!

        I was 99% sure that's how all their conversations that I'm out of earshot of went down. Bertholdt once called me a 'drama queen' when I told him this, but that's an exaggeration, because I am not a 'drama queen'. The bus stopped at school and I pushed my way into the front, and fled the bus, looking for Reiner.

        I found him in the barely-used boys bathroom on the second floor in the arts wing. In a stall. With moans and lip-smacking noises coming out of it. And a certain someone whose black-haired head peaked over the top of the same stall that Reiner's voice was coming from. Very sexual and explicit things were stated that I will not repeat for the sake of everyone's sanity.

        I was standing there listening to the /sounds/ for thirty seconds before clearing my throat and announcing my presence by saying "Damn, you go Reiner! You get some." I had seemed to be noticed then by the homos in the bathroom, seeing as I heard zippers pulled up and belts put on. The stall unlocked and out came none other than Trost High School's newest cock sucking homosexual couple, Reiner Braun and Bertholdt Fubar, faces red as tomatoes. Reiner managed to stutter "Ymir w-what are you even doing here? This is the boys room!"

        "It's cleaner here. Less blood and hit lists on the walls. So are you out as a couple or what, because I want to gossip but I don't want to start a shitstorm," I replied as the boys violently shook their heads no.

        "W-we planned to go to soph hop as friends, but then, uh, Reiner, uhm, he, decided, he, uh, wanted to go as, uh, more." Bertholdt smiled and sweated furiously and I highly doubted his face could have physically got any redder than it was at that moment. Not really caring anymore, I left.

        Don't judge, I just simply get bored when other people are happy and gay and I'm not. (Happy, not gay. If I wasn't gay then this would be one hell of a phase) Then Christa came up to me and casually asked if I would be her date to the soph hop. (As friends, of course, but STILL)

        I was so overwhelmingly ecstatic that I completely forgot to go to first period. 

Who needs woodshop anyways?


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it only gets gayer from here on out, except with the added bonus of a sexually frustrated juvenile delinquent lesbian who actually did nothing wrong this time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aah I'm so sorry for not updating but my life has been crazy busy lately and I dropped all my crushes so I could enjoy being single, but that just gives me less motivation to write but I've also be doing theater camp and I'll try and write on weekends, but I swear to you I will finish this story whether yall like it or not

Yesterday was a total blur after Christa asked me to the dance. I may have had like, six midterms, but hey, what college isn't going to accept this hot piece of ass who rarely pays any attention whatsoever in her classes? Like **_dayum_**. I’m probably getting into the best college there is, or at least suing them for oppression of a minority, therefore achieving step one of my “become the greatest defense attorney ever when I’m older” plan, or at least I'm assuming, I never paid attention in that class.

I stepped outside, and the air smelled _crisp_. Don't ask me what crisp is supposed to smell like, I'll just probably reply with some bullshit like "it smells crisp." As I sat in silence on the bus, wearing a v-neck gray t shirt and even-though-it’s-forty-degrees-out- &-I’m-not-a-middle-school-white-boy black basketball shorts, I thought over the important things in life.  

“Why isn't Christa on the bus?”

“Has the senior sitting behind me right now lost his virginity yet?”

"He looks like a virgin haha fucking nerd"

“Is an ostrich a bird or a fruit?”

“It sounds like a fruit but I think it’s a bird”

“Please don’t let the virgin see me googling “Ostriches” on my phone”

“Ok I was right it **is** a bird”

“How much sleep did I actually get last night?”

The bus stopped at school right as I closed out of the google images tab on my smashed phone (I threw it at Annie during a party once) and put it in my pocket. While I opened my locker, Annie snuck up behind me and tapped my shoulder, scaring me half to death.

"Annie, what is it? You almost gave me heart palpitations holy fucking hell!"

"You like Christa"

Fuck. Is every one of my friends confronting me about this now? It's like every chapter one of my friends says that or something around those lines.

"Yeah, What's it to you? Do you like her?" I questioned.

"Nah, I just need to get you laid so you're not exactly as sad and horny as you already are."

Thanks a bunch, Annie. Thanks a whole fucking bunch. I was so pissed, I stayed and listened to her advice.

"How would I, per say, get 'laid' by a straight pretty blonde girl who can sing like an angel, not once gotten acne, and is only 4'11 and still has bigger boobs than mine?"

"First of all, Ymir, get real for a second. Everyone Has bigger boobs than yours. Even Reiner."

"Shut the fuck up and help me."

"Okay, so just man up and kiss her. At the dance. The dance in which you are her fucking d-a-t-e date to." Annie spoke curtly.

"No"

"god dammit Ymir."

* * *

 

School Ended, and a blue minivan pulls up in front of the building. The window rolls down to reveal Christa, Sasha, and Annie in the backseat with Mikasa driving the beat-up car that belonged to Armin Arlert (the kid who constantly claims he's heterosexual yet holds fucking hands with Eren in the hallways. Talk about some major bullshit.) Sasha energetically screams from the back, "GET IN LOSER, WE'RE GOING SHOPPING!"

Note to self: slap the fucking shit out of Sasha for the awful yet well-placed mean girls reference.

As it turns out, Sasha had called a mandatory 'girls shopping spree' to buy outfits for the dance. I usually despise the whole girly pre-dance dress shopping montage, but when I'm with Christa, I could enjoy getting stabbed or some shit like that as long as I saw her soft blonde hair and eyes that looked like they could contain entire galaxies and just everything about her. Even though the car smelled like dandruff shampoo and buttsex, this trip is probably the best chance I'll have to hang out with my friends this week. The radio turned on and we danced to some mindless pop-electronica bullshit like a bunch of imbeciles. Sasha, as organized as she believed she was, thought to pass out a schedule for each of us (that no one ever ended up following because we didn't want to stay there until the mall closes) that had photocopied Sasha's illegible handwriting and from what I could make out, it said

3:00—Arrive at Mall

3:05—FYE for music and post-soph hop DVDs

3:20—Chik-Fil-A

3:40—DSW &/or other shoe stores

4:30—Noodles and Company

5:15—Charming Charlie's

6:00—Back to Noodles and Company

6:30—Macy's

7:00—Dress Barn

7:20—Wet Seal

7:40—Revisit any store needed

8:00— Auntie!!!!! Anne's!!!!!! Pretzels!!!!!!

See, this is the kind of crazy bullshit she dreams up. I will go for the pretzels though, because those are the shit. Just no 50 minute shoe shopping. Seriously, I have one pair of red heels that I have worn at every fancy event since eighth grade, which are currently being polished and fixed up by the large gays back at my house. I trusted them not to fuck when they were alone in my room, but if they do, I have cameras set up in there so their little sex tape wouldn't go unseen.

We had barely even walked in when we went our separate ways. Mikasa went straight to Dress Barn (fuck her & her rich family, they always had money to spare on expensive shit) Sasha, of course, just made a left towards the food court and ditched us without a second thought. Annie, surprisingly, walked past Claire's (we always watch kids getting their ears pierced there, it's great—even though I don't have my ears pierced and I never would admit out loud that I'm scared) and looked around, trying to see if anyone noticed that she was about to walk into Victoria's Secret. I'm not into her but I will admit she has tits that I wouldn't mind doing things to. As for me, I was following Christa, because she grabbed my hand (aaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh) and ran with me to Macy's to pick out the cheap (but still fancy looking, hey, I'm not a total cheapskate) dresses in there. Running through the aisles, I picked out three that I thought would look nice.

Dress #1: One-shouldered black dress that fell down to the floor with a train that had ruffles on the lower part (don't mock my fashion knowledge I have no idea how to exactly describe these things)

Dress #2: crimson strapless dress that had a large bow to tie in the back but had a bottom like the first (minus the ruffles)

Dress #3: Dark green thin-strapped minidress that has a "guaranteed slimming" bottom part-ish thing

I silently applauded my knowledge of both fashion and descriptions.

I slipped into the first dress, which was super comfortable, even though it wasn't the easiest to run and kick people in the dick in. While zipping up the back of the second dress was easier said than done, it was for sure the best-looking one the hanger, and caught my eye as the easily most attractive of the three I liked within my budget, but in my case I’d need to stuff my bra because it was way too big. As I tried on the third dress, I concluded it was what I like to call a complete and utter disaster. I mean, I realize my legs are longer than average girls my age and build, but this was ridiculous. It was too big in the top, and the bottom, which didn't even begin to cover lower than my ass, was so tight it began to cut off the circulation in my stomach, making it hard to breathe. I gasped for air and hoisted myself up to and out the dressing room door and knocked on Christa's.

"I may or may not have got stuck in this shitty ass dress and I can't get it unzipped please hELP"

The door flings open on it's hinges almost immediately, and Christa is wearing an exasperated expression while she pulls me into her dressing room. Looking at her piles of dresses, all of them seem to be pale pinks or whites, and all of the petticoat ballgown-ish style, which was not surprising at all.

"Lift your hair up." Christa instructs and I comply.

As she unzips the back of my dress, I am aware of the fact that CHRISTA FUCKING LENZ IS UNZIPPING MY DRESS. My cheeks immediately flush scarlet when she gets the zipper all the way down and pulls my dress down and it instantly feels better, blood rushing back to my brain and the feeling of lightheadedness is gone. Standing there in nothing but my bra and boxer briefs, I dash out of the room after uttering a quick "thank you" to Christa, whose cheeks are lightly tinted pink, almost as she's blushing as well. But that can't be, as much as I wish it was true. She probably tried on a new blush at the makeup counter. That was it. Yeah.

Well, even though all dresses were shitty, I bought the first option because, I probably wouldn't have to kick anyone in the dick directly at the dance, and at least I could survive the night in it. Christa bought her dress very sneaky and secretly, and I honestly have no clue why. I've known her so long that it was pretty obvious she got the pink one with the small straps and the flouncy bottom. That's just, the Christa dress. No doubt about it. But now to worry about the pressing matter here: why the fuck are the cops swarming the Chik-Fil-A and why the FUCK IS SASHA WEARING THE COW MASCOT'S HEAD AND RUNNING STRAIGHT FUCKING TOWARDS ME AND CHRISTA SCREAMING.

* * *

 

Holding was not fun. I flipped the fuck out on Sasha, who being the fucking dumbass she is, took the cow mascot that is the symbol of Chik-Fil-A and stripped him of his costume after knocking him out and leaving him unconscious in the neighboring Aeropostale dressing room and putting the fucking costume on herself to go to the kitchen and get even more food since she, once again, blew her money on useless shit. The cops assumed we were her accomplices (the fuck we were) and threw us in there as well. My parents don't give a fuck about me, so I had to call Reiner to use his mythical gay magic to somehow convince the cop to lower the bail. Christa looked super freaked, so I grabbed her tiny hand in mine and just held it there for a little bit. At around 11, she began to get sleepy so she rested her head against my shoulder and trust me, shivers went down my spine. I had the impulse to just kiss her head and her hands and her lips and her nose and just everywhere and anywhere she'd allow. But I can't. Because pretty blondes don't like lanky masculine freckly lesbians on the wrestling team. I felt my eyes begin to fall closed and what the fuck no I’m savoring my moment with a cute girl c’mon self wake the fuck up NO I CAN’T FALL ASLEEP NOW fuck it i’m tired. But I guess it’s the closest I’ll ever get to sleeping with Christa, so its take it or leave it.

It’s been a day since we went from dress shopping to prison. Reiner has been working his ass off all night to get the bail lowered, but the new security dude they brought in looks like he’s super fucking straight and also looks like an ex-marine so I wouldn’t want to get on his bad side. I yawn and come not to the realization “holy fucking shit I spent the night in juvie” but “ holy fucking shit Christa’s not awake yet and her arm is around my chest holy shit she’s touching my boob holy shit holy shit holy shit.” I peer over to the clock on the concrete wall (it’s an analog clock who even uses those anymore) and check the time. 6:28 A.M. I feel like Christa is going to sleep for a bit longer, so I close my eyes, relax, and uncomfortably fall back asleep.

I awoke the second time as I hear the metal door slide open. I opened my eyes only to see none other than an aggravated-looking Mikasa standing at the side of the room, writing a check to the officer in the Jaeger family name. Thank god she was there, because I was beginning to smell Sasha’s morning breath and I think I need a shower just to get the putrid stench off of me. The ride home in Mikasa and Eren’s really fancy and high-end car (that once again smelled like buttsex) was silent. I was dropped off at my house, and before she drove away Mikasa said two words. “Never. Again.” I nodded and took off, hoping she wouldn’t decapitate me or anything.

what the fuck even is my life anymore


	5. PSA!!!

Hey guys!!!! I apologize for not updating in forever, a lot of mental health shit is going on right now and it's not very fun to write lately. But I'm currently in the process of rewriting and reworking this entire story, and I'll post it better than ever in maybe a month or two. Sorry to keep you waiting! if you need to contact me, my tumblr is bisexualasshole. Thanks for reading and supporting All My Life!

 

**Edit: Chapter one is revamped and up, better than ever! I took out points that aren't really important to the storyline, because I was basically ranting about my own crushes when I wrote it last year, but now its much better and to the point.**


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